old, new, borrowed and blue

as a little girl, i'd run my fingers across covers of wedding magazines in the grocery line

pressing my nose against the windows of bridal boutiques,

reluctant parents dragging me past.

puzzled by the rash romantic relationships i witnessed early in life,

pristine newlywed love provided a hopeful focus for this young heart.

grown now, 

i've learnt what i wish to pursue in life is rarely printed on glossy pages,

no longer aching to plan a perfect wedding or spend months in pursuit of a white dress i'll spend a single day wearing.

instead i'd like a home filled with books, and someone i love to read them with.

a front porch swing, where tea in hand i'll listen to the thunderstorms

sweet animals with which to share early mornings and late nights,

room to paint, cook, sing and laugh at all of the mistakes that will inevitably be made in this ideal future.

often it seems,

the things we think we want are determined by life as it has happened to us 

yet that which we truly need is left for us to define.